Petals on the Graves
by Shurikenx
Summary: ‘Where is that hatred?’ He repeated, his breath coming in hot puffs over the exposed skin of my throat. ‘I want to see it…’ His voice was merely more than a whisper. 'I want to taste it.' [Uchihacest, Lemon, Yaoi.]


Petals on the Graves.

A/N:: This is a very random one-shot. I've had the idea hanging around in my head for quite some time now, and I thought that it was about time I got the ideas down onto paper (or in this case, the computer screen). This is not the planned sequel to Fragile Emptiness – although it is quite longer – so prepare yourselves for quite a read. I personally am still not happy with it… (Perfectionist at heart) - But I'll let you guys be the judges.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

- - -

- - -

- - -

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being able to stop him. I'm sorry for not being able to help…I should've saved you. I should've saved you all. I'm sorry for not being strong enough…

_I'm so sorry._

I stared blankly at the family cemetery – the only proof that the Uchiha clan existed – and the only evidence of the brutal murder that had happened that fateful night.

I was late home from the academy when it happened…

'_Mother? Father? Is anyone here?' _

_The air felt dense and heavy – and almost immediately I could sense that something wasn't right. I glanced around as I entered my house – not noticing anything out of place or suspicious._

_I walked through the numerous rooms of our household – placing my small hands on the door frames as I nervously peered into each room; not knowing what I would find. What was I __**expecting**__ to find? I shook the thought out of my head. No-one was here… so where were they? I had nearly completed my tour of the house – the only room that I hadn't yet entered being the small outhouse – a building separate from the main building itself – and one that was seldom used. _

_Hesitantly I ran outside – the flimsy paper door rustling as it clicked into place.. They must be here. They must be. 'Mother, Father?' I called out again as I neared the old wooden door, my voice trembling with fear and worry. I stopped. I reached out a hand to the door handle –feeling its cool metal beneath my fingers. _

_Move Sasuke. They might be inside. Hurry. Move. Move! _

_I willed myself forward; grabbing at the other handle and pulling the double doors open. _

_At first, I just stood there. I watched as the moonlight from behind me seeped into the room – illuminating the dark expanse of flooring – but not quite reaching to the very back of the room; which remained in total darkness. I released a small breath that I hadn't realised I was holding – before I took a tentative step in. My hands fell from the handles, and the door shut behind me – startling me as I was plunged into darkness. _

'_M-Mother?' _

_My voice cracked slightly. I was only seven, and I was scared. Not just for myself, but for my parents. Where were they? What if they had been…kidnapped? They were skilled shinobi afterall - maybe an enemy ninja had infiltrated the village and taken them hostage. But… even if they had been kidnapped, we'd be able to get them back. We could pay the ransom if that's what the enemy wanted. We could sacrifice other lives or precious items if that's what they asked for in return of my parent's safety. Whatever we had to do - we'd get them back._

_With a little more courage, I took another step forward. The ground felt a little slippery underneath my bare feet – but I knew that it was only dew from the moist air and the warm days. This room was rarely used – only for special meetings that included either my father or my brother. _

_My brother._

_Where was __**he**__? He should be here – helping me. Unless… I swallowed a thick lump in my throat. No. It wasn't possible. Itachi was – Itachi was __**perfect**__. There was no way he could have been taken too…_

_I was snapped from my thoughts – a warm hand gripping my upper arm making me cry out in terror. _

'_Ssh – Sasuke, It's only me –' _

_I faced the voice of the attacker – just able to make out the faint outline of a tall, thin body – recognising it immediately – and with a sigh of relief._

'_Ni-San!' I reached forward blindly – my hands making contact with the front of his shirt. I clung to it. _

'_Itachi – you need to help me – I came home late today, and no-one was home -' I took a quick breath. '- I think that maybe Mother and Father have been kidnapped – we need to find out where they went –' _

'_Kidnapped?' He interrupted, his hand dropping from my arm as he spoke. I nodded. A small laugh escaped his lips – mocking my reason for our parent's disappearance. _

'_B-But it would make sense…' I said meekly, not understanding why he thought my idea was so absurd. It __**would**__ make sense. Things like that weren't unheard of. _

'_They weren't kidnapped, Sasuke.' He said gently, peeling me away from his chest; a hand on either on my shoulders. _

'_T-then…' I stared up at him, my eyes adjusting to the darkness – so that now his face was visible._

'_- where are they?'_

_He looked at me – his black eyes shining like tiny polished stones -glinting with a kind of malevolence. Something wasn't right. If Itachi was here, then he must know what happened to our parents. The warm fingers on my shoulders squeezed slightly – an action which I took for reassurance. _

'_Come, I'll show you where Mother and Father are.' He steered me further into the darkness – heading for the furthest end of the room. I didn't want to go there – but if that's where Itachi was saying our parents were… I let him guide me – me walking first, with him –hands on my shoulders—behind._

'_Here.' He said, stopping me from walking any further. I blinked. I couldn't see anything or anyone – but, it was still too dark to really make anything out._

'_I- I can't see them…' I murmured – my breath hitching as my hand was grabbed forcefully and tugged forward. He moved my hand a little – stretching out my fingers. _

_At first, I could feel nothing. Darkness; like black velvet – but nothing else. _

_Until, my fingers brushed against something cold. _

'_I-Itachi?' _

_He ignored me; pushing my hand further infront of me. My palm pressed against something damp – cool, clammy, and slightly wet. It felt like skin – like flesh. I recoiled in horror, realising exactly what I was touching._

'_N-No…' I stumbled backwards, the warmth of my brother's chest hitting my back – supporting me from falling. This wasn't right – mother and father were – but, they were meant to be – _

'_It's alright Sasuke.' _

_A ray of moonlight flung through a side window – covered with a layer of dust – and illuminated the room slightly. _

_The bodies of my parents lay a few feet infront of me. They were hardly recognisable – their figures slashed – resembling nothing from humanity. Blood spilled from their wounds – not crimson, but black – thick, like tar. The skin, which I had touched; __**felt**__ only a few seconds ago – was greyed and pasty on their faces._

_They were dead._

'_Look at them little-brother.' A hand gripped at my chin as I tried to avert my eyes from the horrific sight – forcing me to continue looking at the corpses. I could feel his breath hot on my skin as he leant forward slightly – his lips resting on my ear as he whispered those crushing words._

'_I…'_

_No – no, don't say it – _

'_Did…'_

_Stop. Please – I don't want to hear it._

'_This.'_

_No – he wouldn't – he wouldn't do something like this… It's impossible – He…_

'_Why? Itachi – Why would you!?' I shouted at him, turning around to face him; my hands gripping at the front of his shirt. It didn't make any sense – why? Why would he do such a thing?_

'_I did this,' he said again – his smooth voice washing over me like dark water._

'_No… No –' I cried, burying my face in his shirt; my small hands shaking as I clung to him. _

'_You see this?' He tilted my head upward with two fingers – his hand outstretched. I looked closely through blurry eyes at his splayed fingers. They were red. Wet – _

_dripping. _

'_B-blood…?'_

_Blood. My parents were dead – and my brother's hand was stained with their blood. He wasn't lying to me. Itachi had really…_

'_You really killed them.' I said, not even believing my own words. The fingers holding my chin dug in suddenly – sharp purple nails piercing my skin. I cried out, feeling a trickle of warmth ooze down my cheek._

'_You hate me for it, don't you Sasuke?' The nails dug in deeper – as if trying to force the answer from me. _

'_W-What do you –?'_

'_You. Hate. Me.' He whispered, lowering his eyes – burning with scarlet – to meet my own. I froze. The moonlight poured into the room, silver illuminating red. My bare feet felt hot and sticky – slippery in the pool of blood emitting from my parent's corpses. _

_They were dead. They were gone._

_I could never, __**ever**__ get them back._

'_Itachi…I – I don't understand why – why you did this…' I pushed my hands on his chest – stepping backwards and away from him; the blood splashing underneath me as I moved. _

'_I…I hate you.' _

_He smiled, his lips curving up slightly as he looked at me. _

'_Never lose that hatred baby-brother,' he whispered, leaning down slightly to place his lips on my cheek. I shuddered, feeling the smirk on his lips as he pulled away; a damp mark chilling my skin – the only evidence of the lingering kiss._

_He cupped my cheek in his hand, and then he vanished. He disappeared – leaving me with the rotting bodies of my parents, and the horrific stench of blood; pooling at my feet._

_I ran from that outhouse. _

_I ran away – scared, and so very much alone. _

_I had never felt such crushing despair – and I had never known such betrayal. I didn't understand it. I didn't want to be left alone. _

'_Itachi!' I shouted to the night air as I ran, my breath coming in short gasps as I stumbled helplessly in the dark. 'Don't leave me!!' _

_But nobody heard me. I tripped; falling with a heavy thud as my arms scraped along rough concrete – making me cry out in pain. _

'_Why?! Why, why did you do this?!' Tears streamed from my eyes – mixing in with the dirt beneath my face; stinging from where the sharp nails had grabbed me merely seconds before. _

_It was only when a stray ray of moonlight broke through the dark clouds overhead – that I was able to see down the dark alleyway before me._

_Corpses. Everywhere. Blood – staining and splattered across walls of buildings; forming puddles on the ground. Weapons lay discarded by dead hands – some embedded in grey flesh, others buried to the hilt in panels of armour. _

_It was then that I realised it. My brother – he had killed them all. Not just our parents…but our whole family – our whole __**clan**__. He was a murderer._

_I screamed._

_- - - _

It all seemed so long ago now. That night, where the moon shone down – illuminating the blood, and the death. They had all died by _his_ hand. My brother, Itachi Uchiha, had killed them. Why? I wasn't sure. Maybe, I didn't really _want_ to know.

It was the anniversary of the clan's destruction. This night, six years ago – was when it all happened. I would visit this place – this _grave_ – once every year. I would come on my own – giving no reasons for my absence, which would last only a day.

What would I do here?

I would apologize.

I'm sorry for not being able to stop him. I'm sorry for not being able to help…I should've saved you. I should've saved you all. I'm sorry for not being strong enough…

I'm so sorry.

And I was. I couldn't lie to my parents – not when they were alive, and not when they were dead. I was so, so sorry. I couldn't forgive him for what he did – but I couldn't forgive myself for not being able to stop him.

The evening breeze rustled my hair and my clothing – wrapping me in its warm embrace before it moved on to blow through the long grasses. The marble gravestones glinted as the setting sun ebbed at the horizon – the orange glow aligning blades of grass – browned with the dry weather of autumn.

My mother's grave stood infront of me – standing almost proudly beside my father's. They hadn't deserved to die – not by his hand, or anyone else's.

'Itachi.'

I hadn't spoken his name in almost a year. I had refused to – but the sound of it rolling from my lips seemed surreal. My brother. My ni-san. Itachi.

I hadn't stopped hating him since that day. My sole purpose since that horrifying event had been to kill him. It's what he would've wanted. He really does _deserve_ to die after committing such a sin.

My hatred for him had grown and festered, feeding off the darkness I enveloped myself in – that very same darkness that he himself had known…But I didn't care. I had to be stronger than him in order to kill him – and if that meant sacrificing those closest to me in order to gain that power – then I would do anything for it. One day, my blade would plunge into his beating heart, and I would feel his warm blood slip down my hands. He would pay _dearly _for his actions.

The trees around me rustled gently; the sun now nothing more than a pinkish glow over the horizon. The only sound was that of the lulling birdsong – sweet, like thick honey, as they prepared to roost.

It was all too ordinary…

And for the second time in my life, I felt that same uncanny feeling of being watched; and of being in the presence of something powerful.

Frighteningly powerful.

I spun around from the gravestones – but I was greeted with nothing. Just the worn down pathway and the bouquets of dying flowers; their petals falling silently to the ground upon each breeze.

'Is anyone there?' I called out – cursing myself at how timid my voice sounded. I wasn't afraid. I _wasn't_.

There was silence; no reply. The malevolent presence had dispersed – it would seem. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck – disappearing beneath the hem of my shirt. Why did I feel so…

Afraid?

I faced the gravestones once again; their marbled surfaces gleaming in the dimming sunlight. It was then, that I noticed somebody standing a little further along the path – looking down at a small gravestone about as high as my waist. It angered me to think that a stranger would just waltz into my family's private cemetery.

'Excuse me,' I said, taking a step towards him as I spoke. 'But this cemetery is private. I don't think you should be-'

'I thought that members of the Uchiha clan were permitted to visit?' He interrupted.

I couldn't see his face; the burning sun was setting just behind him – making his figure a silhouette before me. I raised a hand to my forehead in an attempt to block out the sunlight – but it was of no use – I couldn't see his face. It was strange, but his voice sounded – not familiar, but although I had heard it somewhere before…like in a dream.

'Yes, members of the clan can visit –' I began, in answer to his question. 'But I'm…'

'- _You're_ the only survivor.'

Angrily I clenched my fist at my side. How dare he address me like someone he knew? He had no right to be here – nobody had ever interrupted my time here before. I didn't want him to be here.

'Uchiha Sasuke, right?' He asked, not looking at me – but keeping his dark eyes cast down at the gravestone at his feet. I nodded in reply.

'I thought so,' he muttered.

I froze. This person…he, he knew me? But how? I took a step backwards – a flicker of fear creeping up my spine and electrifying my nerves.

'How do you know me?' I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and ignoring the warning alarms striking in my head. He didn't reply immediately – and my suspicion rose. Thinking him to be an enemy or assassin – I pulled a large kunai from my belt and held it infront of me.

'You're going to attack me?' He scoffed, a small laugh following his cold, hollow voice.

'I will if you choose to ignore my questions.' I replied, gritting my teeth at his arrogance. 'I shouldn't need to repeat myself for you.'

His silhouette moved slightly to one side, and I braced myself for an attack. He laughed quietly under his breath – before reaching out a foot and nudging the gravestone with it.

'Don't touch –'

'Do you know whose grave this is?' He asked gently, ignoring me once more as he nudged the stone again. I _didn't_ know. It was a member of my family of course, but the Uchiha Clan was large in size; there was no way that I could memorize all of them. I wasn't _expected_ to…was I?

'This is the grave of Uchiha Shisui.' He said, his foot resting at the base of his stone. For a spilt second I noted a hint of sadness in his voice; but it was quickly diminished. He read the passage engraved on the grave aloud.

'_Uchiha Shisui. A great achiever and true asset to the clan. To heaven we hope your soul has gone…_'

He laughed; a hollow, dark sound that made me shiver.

'He was my cousin.' I said angrily, holding the weapon still in my hand a little tighter as I faced it towards the stranger.

'- don't mock him like that.'

'Oh, I wasn't _mocking_ him…' He muttered, absentmindedly stroking the top of the grave with his fingertips – as if he were petting a cat.

'He was killed, wasn't he?'

'Murdered.' I corrected him. To me, there was a big difference between dying, being killed, and being murdered. Murder…it was unforgivable.

'My brother…he…' I faltered, not sure whether I should be telling this to a stranger. I looked up at him, and he nodded, asking me to continue. 'My brother murdered Shisui. He was our cousin – and was like an older brother to Itachi… But he…'

'He drowned him, right?'

I nodded. I often found myself wondering about Shisui's death – and now was no exception. The same questions filtered into my mind. Had Shisui… suffered? Was he screaming; the pleas and shouts he made muffled by the dense black water? Did Itachi feel an ounce of regret, of _guilt_ for the man whose life he was ending?

'Wait…' I turned my gaze from the memorial back to him – his face still blacked out by the setting sun.

'- How did you know that Shisui…had _drowned_?'

He shifted slightly, his hand falling from the stone and returning to his side. There was a brief moment of silence; broken only by the lulling of birdsong – the sound not sounding quite as sweet.

'Well, I _should_ know…'

I took a step back as he spoke.

'Afterall…'

He moved to one side, a ray of light bursting forth from behind him, and illuminating his face.

_No. No - not here, not now -_

'– I'm the one who killed him_.'_

I stood there, silent – his words shattering in my mind; long forgotten memories tearing and splitting into millions of pieces – and all with the utterance of those few words. The realisation struck me like lightning. Why hadn't I recognised that voice before?! I staggered backwards – the kunai dropping from my hand; the sound of metal striking soft dirt greeting my ears.

'No…You – You can't be here.' I said, fear electrifying my nerves. He smiled, and took a step towards me.

'But I _am_ here…' He bent down a little, his black hair falling slightly as his white hand picked up the fallen knife. He stood; examining it in his fingers – his scarlet eyes looking up to lock with my own.

'– So what are you going to do?'

I remained silent – almost not believing that he was standing before me. My brother. My family's murderer. But like he said, he _was_ here – this wasn't a dream.

'I…I can't fight you here.' I said. 'I can't kill you on their graves – it's not…not right.'

He smirked, watching me intently as I took another small step away from him. I wanted to get away. I wanted to run.

'Don't... Run… From me.' He hissed, the blade of the kunai pressing into the flesh of my throat. He was behind me. I stared blankly at the space where he had been merely seconds before. His skill was incredible… I had no chance at fighting him and winning.

'Such a shame…' He muttered, pulling the edge of the weapon across my throat; a warm bead of blood falling from the scratch-like wound.

'– and especially when I told you _not_ to lose it.'

I drew in a sharp breath, the cool evening air stinging the cut as the blade continued to poise above my skin. What did he mean? What had I…?

'That _hatred_, Sasuke.' He whispered, his breath hot in my ear as he spoke.

But… he was wrong.

I – I _hadn't_ lost it. He didn't know what I had been doing since that day; strengthening myself; strengthening that sheer hatred. How could I _not_ hate him? After what he did… _he_ was the one who left me.

He didn't know me anymore.

'I haven't lost it –' I muttered, feeling the blade lower slightly from my throat as my words distracted him.

'- If anything…'

The blade dropped a little more – no longer poised over anything vital.

'- It's only grown stronger!'

I took him by surprise; throwing my arm forward to knock his own out of the way – the metal kunai falling from his fingers as I ran ahead. For a moment, I could hear nothing. I stumbled through thick branches; scratching and tearing at my face as I forced my feet to continue in their movements. I couldn't let him get to me – get _inside_ my head. I couldn't let his words affect me.

'Not running away again are we little-brother?' I knew he wasn't behind me – but his cold voice was all too close to my ear. He was wrong – again. I wasn't going to avoid a fight…

- and I knew that I could never run from him. He'd find me – wherever I went, wherever I hid – there was no escape for me.

Hastily I flung my hands into various hand-signs – before I was teleported up to the tops of the trees. I landed on the thickest branch; reassured by it's sturdiness as it supported my weight. The bark was rough under my fingertips as I clung onto the branch beside me; crouching down amongst the spattering of dead leaves.

'I see that you've achieved the basic substitution jutsu,' he said, a small chuckle following his hollow voice as he spoke from below me. '- I wouldn't say that you've _mastered_ it, but anything is an improvement, isn't it?' He laughed again; and I tried to pinpoint his location with the sharingan. Slowly I pulled a small shuriken from my waist, feeling a little more confident at the weight of the cool metal in my palm. Angrily I scanned the ground a final time – with the same result.

I couldn't see him.

Where… was he?

'Why won't you _fight_ me, Sasuke?' A hand touched my pelvis, gripping me still as I balanced precautiously on the branch. He leaned in close to me from behind – the hand on my waist moving up to rest on the top of my spine.

'Why don't…' His breath hit the flesh of my neck, tickling the strands of my hair.

'- you even…' I shuddered – knowing that I was trapped. I…I couldn't move. I glanced down at the ground. It looked miles away from me.

'– _try_?' He whispered, before the hand pushed suddenly on my back – and I lost my balance. My feet left the safety of the tree branch – and I tumbled face-forward to the ground below.

I was falling – falling quicker and quicker as leaves rushed past my face; branches scraping at my arms and legs as I hurtled towards the ground. For a moment, I thought that I was truly going to die. This was it – the end for me… and for my life. But – I wasn't going to die that easily. I would survive. I had to.

Thinking quickly, and with only seconds to spare – I channelled the little chakra in my veins – sending it to my feet. I braced myself – and I landed; my back hitting the gnarled tree roots, making me scream in pain. The chakra, it seemed, had lessened the impact – but had by no means saved my fall. My limbs snapped onto the unforgiving floor, the pain ricocheting through my body.

For a moment, I just lay there – on my back; eyes closed. The pain electrifying my nerves was white hot – and it took me a while for my eyes to open. He had… He'd really _pushed_ me… Hesitantly, I looked up. The leaves above me were black; their edges lined with a tiny glow of orange from the setting sun. The tree was tall – very tall – and I had fallen a long way. I lifted my head a little; ignoring the wetness on the back of my scalp, as I moved my fingers and legs – flexing them a little. Nothing was broken.

He landed with ease beside me, his scarlet eyes calculating and revolving as I avoided his gaze – one which was filled with disappointment. Disappointment in _me_. I let my head fall back to the floor - warm blood matting in my hair – and I turned to my side as he knelt next to me. His presence was icy and cold – making me shiver. What did he want with me? Why would he come here…?

It was then that I noticed the shuriken – lying a few feet away from me. It must have fallen from my grip when I fell… I held my breath, hearing his clothes rustle slightly as he leant over me. Quickly, I reached out for the weapon – grabbed it, and struck out at his looming figure.

I should've known that it would've been a futile attempt.

I stared in horror as the shuriken that had moments ago been in my hand – was now in his. I couldn't fight him – even now, I – I _couldn't_…

'You see?' He muttered, turning the pointed-star over in his fingertips before flicking his eyes back to me. 'You just don't _try_.'

The shuriken was plunged into my shoulder – embedding itself deep within my skin. I screamed – a dry hoarse sound that forced its way through my tight throat, as I felt the skin tear and muscle rupture. 'Itachi – d-don't –' I cried out, as his cold fingers pushed the blades in deeper – a little _further_ into burning flesh. I felt sick, faint –

_Just kill me_.

Self-consciously, I placed my hand on his – still resting on my shoulder – as I prised the shuriken from his fingers, and, with a sharp tug, pulled it from my flesh. Sticky blood flowed in hot spurts onto my pierced shirt – making me feel sickeningly light-headed.

I couldn't take this level of pain – it was unbearable, agonising – I couldn't take it.

'Get – off me,' I panted, throwing the shuriken to one side; hearing it thud gently onto the twisted tree roots – reaching up from the ground like dead fingers. He removed his hand from my bleeding shoulder, dragging it slightly across my chest. I watched his eyes carefully – and I saw the brief glimpse of hesitation flash across them, before he pulled his hand back to the torn piece of fabric where the weapon had punctured. He ripped it further. My remaining shirt was torn diagonally, my bloody torso revealed to him.

'Ngh…' I bit my lip, the cold air blowing against the savage wound.

'Where is that hatred, Sasuke?' He muttered, leaning over my body once again, his long fingers reaching to grab my throat; lifting me up off the ground and slamming me into the trunk of the tree behind me. I gasped as the impact knocked the breath from my lungs, making my bones ache madly as I slumped to the ground – remaining in a twisted sitting-position. I coughed, a flicker of blood hitting my lips as he knelt between my legs.

'Where is that hatred?' He repeated, his breath coming in hot puffs over the exposed skin of my throat as he leaned in a little closer.

'I want to _see_ it…' His voice was merely more than a whisper, his lips trailing across my skin – moving gently across my collarbone. Scarlet eyes flashed to meet with mine; mocking me silently – _degrading_ me.

'I want…' He cast his eyes down my body; as his mouth hovered above the raw wound on my shoulder – blood seeping down my skin, leaving black trails in their wake.

'– to _taste _it.'

The lips clamped down suddenly – sucking hard on the open skin. I cried out in horror – feeling a hot tongue sweep over the deepest part of the gash; making my back arch and my skin crawl. It hurt – on top of everything else – and I screamed.

'S-stop, Itachi!' I begged, my body convulsing a little as he gave another forceful suck, before finally lifting his head up from the bloody wound. His eyes were a burning crimson – matching the colour of the blood that stained his lips, a tiny rivulet falling from the corner of his mouth and rolling to his chin.

I let my head fall back once again to rest on the rough bark; my naked chest heaving as I tried to keep my breathing steady. He wasn't meant to see me like this. Weak. Pitiful.

A disappointment.

I turned my face away from him, my cheek pressing against the bark as I did so. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't – _couldn't_ face those eyes again. It tore me apart to see them…I didn't want to remember.

'Sasuke…' His voice was low, lined with a delicate trace of evident lust – which he didn't bother to hide from me. My name falling from his lips – the lips stained with my very _blood_ – sounded husky and foreign… and alighted some nerve deep within me.

He hummed softly; placing a soft kiss on my cheek – before trailing his tongue across my jaw line. 'No…' I managed to whisper, tears falling dutifully from my stinging eyes as I felt his breath strike my face. Hot, wet sucking sounds filled my ears as he sucked on my pulse, his fingers scratching lightly at the skin of my throat; seemingly guiding his mouth as it latched onto my skin.

'St-stop it – please –' I said, my voice choked and barely audible – but for a brief moment, his actions stilled. I had his attention. Breathing heavily – from both the loss of blood and the thudding of my heart – I glanced at his face, as it was lifted it from placing a kiss on my neck.

'This isn't right.' I said, catching a glimpse of one of our family member's tombstones beside us. They might've been watching – watching what I was letting their murderer, and my _brother_ do to me. They would hate me. They would despise me…

'Not – not here, don't do this here…' I muttered, hoping that for once he might take my words into consideration, and understand how wrong his actions were.

'But this is the _perfect _place, Sasuke.' He replied, ignoring my gasps of horror as he pushed me onto my back to emphasise his point. My naked back hit the soft dirt; tiny beads of perspiration trickling down my brow – evidence of my sheer fear. I didn't want to feel his hands on my skin. It was wrong. I…

'I hate you,' I said, my trembling voice covered by the brief flash of courage that reeled through my head; hardening my words. He turned his face towards mine, those scarlet eyes instantly dissolving any fleeting bravery inside me.

'Now Sasuke,' he murmured, his voice almost a whisper as he leant closer – his lips hovering above my own, merely millimetres away.

Too close.

'- we _both_ know that you don't mean that. You can't say that you possess such hatred…' His hot breath hit my lips, drying them, and making me shiver inwardly.

'…when you've never _truly_ possessed it.'

His breath seemed hotter as his words trailed to a hushed end, and by the time I tried to move away, it was too late. His mouth met with mine. A kiss. His warm lips instantly wetting my own, leaving on them that uncanny taste of blood. I tried to yell – to shout, to scream – but any sounds I made were reduced to nothing more than whimpers; swallowed by his lips. My brother, was kissing me. I didn't think that it could get any worse.

How wrong I was.

My head spun; oxygen strived from the mere meeting of our lips – but it wasn't until his tongue pushed between them, and his hot breath cascaded down my throat – that I felt truly sick. I inhaled the air he forced into my lungs; all the while his tongue rubbing and moving inside my mouth – brushing against my gums and teeth, before touching my own. I flinched, pulling back to avoid the grotesque feeling of something hot and wet teasing alongside the muscle – only to find a hand on the hair of my fringe, pulling me up – _preventing _me from breaking the contact. I almost cried out in anguish as he drew my tongue into his own mouth, my body seeming to follow him – like a twisted enchantment. His teeth bit lightly at the flesh, sucking and teasing; before he finally pulled away.

My lungs heaved as the cool evening air rushed down my throat – and I coughed slightly, a string of saliva connecting our mouths falling to my chin as I did so.

Why? Why had he… It was sick – why would he do such a thing to me? I hated him – why did he doubt it – even for a _second_? I wanted him to leave – I wanted him to leave _now_. I couldn't take this – this kind of betrayal. It was a new low; even for him. He'd done enough damage with the death of the clan… I didn't want to see his face again. Not ever.

Angrily, I lifted my arm – ignoring how the wound on my shoulder burned with every slight movement – and placed it on his chest. I pushed, attempting to move him off of me.

'Go. Go away.' I said, gritting my teeth as his body refused to move. As if mocking me, he stroked my fingers on his chest with his own.

'No.' He replied, smirking as I stared at him with disbelief.

'I said go away! Leave me alone!!' I screamed, not bothering to hide the tears that ran down my cheeks, or the cries of despair that racked my breath. I was beyond caring now. Far beyond.

I shuddered; feeling a warm hand caress my lower stomach – a solitary fingertip tracing the outline of my navel. My hand fell from his chest, returning back to my side – onto the cool softness of the earth. He wouldn't listen to me. There was hardly any point in me trying at all.

The fingertip at my navel circled it a little, before I felt something else touch me on my stomach; replacing the finger. Wet – hot. I lifted my head up from the ground, watching as his tongue swirled into the small dip on my stomach – leaving a glistening trail of saliva on my skin. A moan escaped my lips; hardly sounding like my voice at all. It was deep, husky – edged with a choking tightness that made me want to cry out…

Cry out in horror.

He stopped. His hot tongue left my flesh as he looked up at me once again – lust heavy in his eyes. I didn't want to see him like that. He shouldn't – should _never_ feel lust towards me – it was sickening.

'Oh…' He muttered, trailing his hand down my wet stomach, before resting on my groin. _No…No – _

'What's this then, baby-brother?' He clenched his hand a little, his fingers tightening into the cloth of my trousers as he gripped at my erection – painfully obvious to his eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't my fault – that I didn't enjoy the kiss and the caresses he had forced upon me – but no words formed in my mouth. I couldn't say anything. Not a thing.

'Feeling _hard_ Sasuke?' He asked, moving his hand slightly down the length, making my nerves alight with disgusting pleasure. My back arched ever so slightly off the ground, my body desperately trying to increase friction within his grip. I cried out in anguish – wanting more than anything for my body to stop – for _him_ to stop – but it was futile. My body craved what he was giving to me – and I couldn't help it.

His hand tightened as he moved it slowly back up – his dark fingernails scratching lightly at the fabric, making me choke out another rough sound of undeniable pleasure.

'Is this the evidence of that _hatred_?' He scoffed, his words hard like ice as his fingers clenched tighter – to the point where pain overrode the horrifying pleasure.

'Well,' his voice dropped degree – changing from raw and sharp, to dangerously gentle. I shivered.

'- We'll just have to find a way to forge that hate, won't we?'

I swallowed.

'Afterall, it would seem that the death of our parents wasn't a good enough reason for you to despise me…' He paused, the silence between his words sounding even more dangerous than his voice.

'What else could I possibly do?'

He knew. He knew _exactly_ what he could do to me. The fake smile flicking onto his lips was sickening, and the way he pretended to act confused – when behind those scarlet eyes lay the thoughts and plans of a twisted genius – was horrifying. He didn't understand me at all – and I was glad that he didn't. If he didn't know me, it was like what was going to happen was hardly going to be between brothers… Because, it _was_ going to happen.

I knew then, that no matter how much I tried to fight him, it was something I simply couldn't prevent.

My thoughts were confirmed when the fingers resting in my groin, travelled up slightly to the hem of my trousers. I closed my eyes shut – hoping that the small action would prevent him from seeing my fear, but, with his sharingan – he probably wouldn't _need_ to see my eyes to delve into my true emotions.

The sound of a zipper being pulled slowly down filled the air – and I automatically flinched as the cool air hit my naked skin; my trousers and underwear being forced to my ankles. I listened, with my eyes still squeezed tightly shut, as he himself undressed. The rustle of fabric on skin, before landing with a soft thud onto the ground drifted into my ears – and then, everything was silent.

The silence was full of suspense; I could hear my heart thudding madly in my chest, as I waited for him to make a move. Cautiously, I opened my eyes – waiting in anticipation as they adjusted to the darkness that the graveyard was now surrounded in. After mere seconds, I was able to make out his figure – his pale skin seeming to shimmer – like a mirage.

I could only wish it was.

I didn't want to be looking in a mixture of twisted longing at his body – leaning above me. I didn't want to feel these things. It was…

- unfair.

'You won't be needing the preparation', he said, a smirk forming on his lips. I stared back at him; horror struck. I didn't want to feel more pain – not more, please –

'Put your legs up –' He grabbed my thighs, lifting them up painfully as my muscles protested; his sharp nails digging into the skin. Angrily I wrapped my ankles around his waist, gritting my teeth and bracing myself as he positioned himself at my entrance. With one fluid motion, he pushed - rolling his hips into mine until his skin touched my skin – the movement he made tearing me apart and making me scream. He moaned, a rough noise low in his throat, making me shudder with disgust and longing.

'Hatred, baby-brother,' he panted, gripping my chin and pulling my mouth towards his in a brutal kiss. He bit at my lip, tearing the skin a little before moving away. 'That's what life is…' he moaned, thrusting deep inside me once again. '- all about.'

No. Life couldn't solely be about hating and proving your strength. Life was… so much more than that. Furiously, I lifted up my arms – encircling them around his neck – and scratching at his white skin, laced with sweat. If he wanted to see my hatred, then I would show it to him.

By any means necessary.

'I – I hate you,' I whimpered, feeling his blood slip under my fingertips. I winced as my hair was tugged sharply to one side, a tight fist gripping at my scalp.

'Say it like you mean it!' He spat, his words stinging the air like venom as his hands coursed through my hair almost violently.

'I hate you!!' I screamed, tightening my fingers into his soft skin. He moaned, letting his head fall onto my shoulder, his black hair falling across my face as he did so.

'Mm – That's it.'

He kissed my cheek, his wet lips stinging my flesh as he continued to thrust in and out, in and out – again and again and again – I knew that it was driving me insane. The line between pleasure and pain was thin and blurred – I couldn't tell what was right, and what was wrong anymore.

He moaned again, louder, more desperate; lust and hunger and passion all visible in the one sound that emitted from his mouth. A noise escaped my own throat – and it took me a while to realise that I was actually _moaning_ – just like him. Synchronizing with him.

I watched, in rapture, as he lifted his face from my neck. His black eyes shone manically – reflecting my own.

'Release,' he said simply, scratching a nail over my erection as he pushed into my body. I screamed, and after what seemed like hours of pain-ridden pleasure – I came between our chests. I choked on my cries, coughing and panting loudly as he gave a final guttural moan – and collapsed on top of me.

I lay there – with his heavy weight, dampened with sweat, lying atop me. I wanted him off. My arms were weak, and yet I still managed to push his body off of my own. He chuckled, before complying with my actions – and rolling to my side, my lungs heaving as cool night air seeped down my throat.

Why? Why did he… Did he really – and all for _hatred_? I had just had sex with my brother – and merely because he wanted to _forge_ a kind of hatred within me? His mind was corrupted – inhuman. I closed my eyes tightly – wanting to forget it all.

I could hear him dressing – his clothes rustling as they moved once again onto his naked body. In a matter of minutes, the noises stopped, and it was obvious to me that he was fully dressed. He knelt beside me, and I was forced to open my eyes. His black hair was strung messily across his face, and a few beads of perspiration remained on his forehead.

'Never.'

He leant in close, his lips hovering above my ear as he ushered the words closer.

'Lose.'

I tried to turn my head away from him, but I was prevented from doing so. Cruel fingers held my chin in place.

'That.'

The last crushing word was whispered into my ear; echoing around in my head as his hot breath struck my face.

'_Hatred'_.

I cried out gently, as his released my chin – his hot mouth claiming mine for the last time that night. His tongue withdrew from between my lips, and with his thumb, he wiped the string of saliva from my chin. He stood, and, with one last glance at me, disappeared – with a few scattering of leaves the only evidence of his absence.

I watched them as they fell to the ground; slick with blood, semen and sweat. The night air felt heavy and dense; suffocating – but I didn't try to move. I didn't try to escape that asphyxiating atmosphere. I knew, that so long as I preserved that feeling – that feeling of sheer loathing for Itachi – then next time, when we next met – it would be our last.

I would never let him use be, humiliate me, betray me and corrupt me – _ever_ again. I wouldn't allow it. I would live, and use that hatred to kill him. Yes, his words would be the death of him.

Painfully, I pushed my body up – resting my back against the tree trunk behind me. The white moon shone down onto the graveyard, just like it did onto the streets of the Uchiha complex all those years ago.

Somewhere nearby, a nightingale sang; the sound echoing through the cemetery; a song of pure sadness and sorrow. The faint breeze rustled the dead leaves above me, and blew dead petals, from the bouquets of flowers littering the many graves, gently past my face.

I could feel the hatred for him burning deep inside me – a tiny flame that sparked and grew into a raging furnace - and I would be sure to never lose it. One day, I would show him the evidence of my hatred. He would lie, dying in a pool of scarlet blood, to which I would gladly end his life with one final blow to his wretched heart. I would bury his body – somewhere far away from our family cemetery – and leave his grave unmarked.

There would be no sympathy for his death, and there would be no grieving for the loss…

There would never be petals on his grave.

- - - Owari ---


End file.
